Public Displays of Affection
by Lilianae
Summary: It started as harmless flirting right before a meeting, but when you only get to see your lover a few times a year, it's easy to get carried away with making up for lost time.


**Title:** Public Displays of Affection  
**Series:** Naruto  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings:** Porn! There should be a 'porn' category in the genre list, because this is quite PWP. Also some language.  
**Pairings:** Naruto/Gaara  
**Setting:** canonverse, some distant(?) future where Naruto is the Hokage and Gaara has gotten a new Round Table for the Suna conference room so something can actually fit under it

Written for the fourth Naruto kinkmeme at an anonymous request.

* * *

It had been going on for some time now, and pretending not to notice was getting difficult.

Never mind trying to keep anybody _else_ from noticing.

Neji and Suna elder Whatshisname were performing the finest art of bickering politely over some trivial matter. Sakura and their ally nation's top medic nin were exchanging recipes like children bargain rare collectible cards. Everyone's two cents were all over the conversation, though a common topic had probably been long since forgotten. Naruto did try to pay attention to it all, if only to be able to avoid making a fool of himself should his opinion be suddenly enquired, but it wasn't his fault he was distracted.

A piece of paper circulated among the occupants of the round conference table, and when he couldn't concentrate enough to understand more than a few random words of the first paragraph, the young Hokage knew he was not being a very responsible leader at the moment. He passed the paper along with a nod, mimicking the reactions of his fellow Konoha representatives. A feathery wisp of sand unhurriedly sliding over his left nipple reminded him of just how alone he _wasn't_ at the irresponsibility.

Naruto bit the inside of his cheek, determined not to make a sound.

Across the table, the Kazekage was seemingly observing the debate between two of his own advisors, who couldn't seem to agree on how to advise him (but Temari and Kankuro rarely did). To anyone else he wouldn't look in the slightest bit suspicious, but Naruto knew that face.

Another fine-grained caress traveled up his thigh. A hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of those soft lips Naruto could have easily mistaken for the cause of the sensation, and, if you watched closely, the dark eyelids drooped a little more.

Oh yes, Gaara was so busted.

It was the first day of Naruto's diplomatic visit to Suna. They had yet to properly touch each other after months of separation, but Gaara was usually the patient one. Was he even aware of what he was doing?

The sand did respond to Gaara's emotions and subconscious thoughts, and conscious or not, it was getting very obvious to the blond what it was responding to _now_. And that the Kazekage was definitely getting turned on more by feeling his sand slither under his lover's clothes.

He couldn't help the groan. Luckily it still came out quiet enough to drown in the surrounding conversation and the sandstorm outside, but he knew that wouldn't be the case for long. The tiny particles moved in perfect unison, rushing up his chest and then dripping back down, painfully slowly like thick liquid. With every move the sand made, it felt more and more like he really did have Gaara's mouth and hands all over him.

His thoughts shot to an hour and a half earlier, when they had walked side by side down the hallway. They hadn't had any less company than they did now, so it had been said in whispers. He would admit –it had felt more exciting than it would have been to just plain _tell_ Gaara, without a chance of interruption, what he was going to do to him when they were finally alone for long enough. The redhead had hardly given a reaction, but Naruto could read him well enough to see he had played it over in his head and loved every dirty little detail.

He was now experiencing the feedback.

Gaara was showing him what _he_ would do when the work was over and it was time to play.

From his peripheral vision, Naruto could spot his two ANBU cease their stealthy rock-paper-scissors and pay attention to their charge again. He knew his cheeks must be flushed by now and his breathing a little erratic, but he could blame it on the desert heat if asked.

That is, if he could trust his voice enough to talk and not moan out loud if he opened his mouth.

He looked straight forward again to catch Gaara staring at him, watching him squirm. Embracing the danger, he locked gazes with the man he loved, and, at the moment wanted very much to run across the table to and screw into the chair, if only the other people present could be made to disappear.

Or, hell, they could watch if they liked. What did he care?

While he still had enough sense in him to give a damn about both of their reputations, Naruto decided that two could play this game, in a _slightly_ more socially acceptable manner. Wishing no one sitting close to him picked this particular moment to stretch their legs, he lowered his hands under the table and made a seal.

--

The sand was him, essentially. Whatever it did was as good as done by Gaara himself, whether it was crushing bones, ripping off limbs –or, feeling up the Hokage in a room full of diplomats.

He was careful not to drool, as he ate the man up with his eyes and felt that bare skin on the hands he wasn't touching him with. That beautiful, tanned skin, stretched over hard muscle –the body he had memorized down to every alluring detail and personalizing imperfection– writhing to meet his caresses. His blond had never been a master of deception, and with every barely-subdued reaction he spied he felt himself growing harder.

How he was going to deal with getting up from his chair and walking out without anyone noticing –especially when he wasn't wearing his concealing robes– was something he would figure out later.

Naruto had started it. By the time he had noticed he was continuing it, it was too late to stop.

How fortunate that the first bout of negotiations always turned out like a practice round. As far as Gaara was concerned, at the moment the rest of the room didn't exist. Everything besides him, one aroused and arousing Hokage, and an incomplete sand clone that was helping him do some remote-controlled groping, was a backdrop.

That proved wrong when he suddenly felt something brush his shin. Thinking he had bumped legs with someone sitting close by, he considerately brought his feet closer to avoid disturbing anyone's personal space (other than Naruto's, of course). He startled, when immediately after there was a grip on both his knees.

Too surprised to resist when his legs were pushed apart, he hazarded a look down. Eyes as blue as the ones he had just torn his gaze from stared up at him and winked. The clone brought a finger to its lips to tell him the obvious. Gaara looked back up to see the real Naruto smiling mischievously at him.

He wasn't going to... was he?

A teasing kiss was placed on his clothed crotch. Shit, he _was_ going to! Forget about hiding a hard-on! How was he going to hide the copy of the Hokage _attached to his hard-on_?

Chances were, he wouldn't be able to. The thought shouldn't have made his cock give another excited twitch, but it did.

He held his breath as his zipper was pulled down, slowly to minimize the sound. One hand was pushing his shirt up a bit, the other cupped and rubbed him through his underwear. A gasp escaped, and he clamped his mouth shut tight, still maintaining eyecontact.

Naruto still had the sand moving around him underneath his clothes. Gaara could both see and feel the effect, but his lover's attention was focused on him. He was watching his squirm.

The shadow clone pulled down the hem of his underpants. Gaara's hands tightened into fists in anticipation. He could feel that hot mouth lingering only a breath away, making a point not to touch yet. Just when he considered finally grabbing that blond hair and shoving the clone's head down on him, there was a wet, slow lick with the whole flat of the tongue, up along his entire length.

Gaara shivered. Naruto wetted his lips.

There was another lick, a third, and then that tongue was circling his tip, occasionally dipping in the slit. He struggled not to close his eyes and tilt his head back. When the plump lips finally wrapped around him and pushed down, he let out a small grunt and leaned forward abruptly.

It was a small movement, but Temari caught it.

"Are you allright?" Gaara heard his sister ask, and quickly glanced around the table. No one else had noticed.

The clone gave him a long, hard suck, and he disguised squeezing his eyes shut as blinking. He managed to nod, clenching his teeth and unable to speak. Temari looked unconvinced, but turned back to talking to Kankuro.

He was glad she did, because when the clone started bobbing its head up and down on him, his hand found a piece of paper and crumpled it into a ball tighter than a sand coffin. He did not care for trying to explain what he had suddenly found so wrong about his notes.

That nimble, textured tongue flicked in patterns on the way up, giving more broad sweeps when diving back. He wanted so badly to buck his hips in response.

He knew he couldn't. The movement would show too much in his upper body. He could hardly do anything at all! Never in his life had he found sitting still and being quiet this difficult.

Suddenly realizing how much effort it took to control even himself, Gaara called the sand away from Naruto. The silky dust crawled over and off the entire demon-infested body in a steady stream. He felt the restrained shudders the friction caused, and when the contact was lost, he simply watched the lingering reactions with interest, unable to tear his eyes away.

The sand settled safely on the floor under the table. Naruto looked disappointed at the loss. Gaara narrowed his eyes at him in a wordless scold; the blond really was too trusting.

The clone's hand was digging into his pants, while the other worked tandem with the mouth that was just as practiced at pleasuring him as its original was. No surprise the clone knew he loved having his testicles massaged while getting head. Across the table, that trusting, perverted blond, who was so in for retaliation later, leaned forward and rested his chin on his crossed hands, enjoying the show.

Gaara fiddled clumsily with the papers in front of him, hoping their rustling was hiding the increasingly louder wet sounds. This was getting out of hand and fast. He was barely managing now, and he could feel the telltale signs of his orgasm approaching. It would be a true test of self-control to stay still and quiet _then_.

Immediately he found out he shouldn't have thought ahead, as imagining the scene sped up the surges of pleasure running through him. His whole body was heating up at the idea.

What in the world –he didn't _really_ want to get caught... did he? Wouldn't it more or less nullify everything he had accomplished in building up a reputation as a responsible and reliable leader?

No, he should not think at all. Not when losing face was beginning to feel oh so tempting, his most precious person's face pressed against his crotch and his cock in the tight embrace of the man's throat. Gaara let out another grunt when the clone swallowed.

This time it was Kankuro who worried. Did they have to pick this moment to start mothering him? "You got a headache again, bro?"

Yes, a headache! He hadn't had one of those since his first full night's sleep, to be honest, but if his siblings hadn't noticed, they certainly didn't need to know now.

"Want me to call for a break?" Kankuro whispered.

Gaara nodded again, his mind on constant repeat of the words 'thank you'.

Kankuro cleared his throat and stood up, drawing all eyes onto himself. Gaara prayed the sudden silence wouldn't attract any attention to how the clone was not slowing down in the least.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your chat, but we've been holed up in this room for a while now, and I for one could use a bathroom break. How about y'all?" The Kazekage's tactless, newly favorite (never mind _only_) brother took the silence for agreement, and began to lead the way out. "Would twenty minutes be allright?" He looked at Gaara, who nodded one more time.

As the stream of diplomats trailed out the door and scattered to the hallways, a tendril of sand closed the door with a little more force than necessary, before anyone got to miss the Hokage too much. The clone dove down one more time, and Gaara bit down on his fist to silence the cry as he came hard in its mouth.

The clone gulped it down without complaint, and disappeared with a poof. Naruto groaned in satisfaction as he gained the memory feedback from it.

"That was insane," Gaara finally said between pants, slumped bonelessly against the backrest.

"It was fucking hot, that's what it was," Naruto said with a feral grin. His voice was husky with lust, like Gaara had never stopped pawing him with his sand.

"We could have..."

"But we didn't," Naruto interrupted. "And look who's talking! Were you trying to make me jizz in my pants in the middle of a meeting, yourself?"

Gaara quirked a brow. "With a little fondling? We have done that before, and it has always taken more than that to make you orgasm."

"Well, we've never done it in public before!" Naruto reasoned. Gaara smirked.

"I thought as much."

"What?"

Still a little out of breath, Gaara let out a small chuckle. "Don't deny it, I won't. It certainly was... 'fucking hot'."

The grin was back on the whiskered face. "Hearing you say it is."

"Hm, that's right," Gaara sighed, amused. "You like talk."

"What can I say –I like to use my mouth." Naruto wiggled his eyebrows to emphasize he had just made the worst dirty joke ever. "Have you noticed?"

Gaara was pleased to see that mouth drop open with a gasp, as he stood up from his chair and strode over, cock still hanging out from his open pants and already getting hard again. A finger to the lips and the intense stare of blue-green eyes, and the host of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox was captured.

"I have," he added for good measure.

Then he used that moment of vulnerability to his advantage and hoisted Naruto up and onto the table.

The loud, very un-manly yelp was silenced by finally pressing their lips together, as Gaara quickly crawled on top. It was their second kiss during that visit, if you counted the indirect one when they had secretly switched their welcoming toasts. They suckled on each other's tongue and nipped lips as if in desperate starvation, and Naruto wrapped his arms around Gaara's neck, while the Kazekage's pale hands gripped his shoulders. When the redhead pulled away, he whispered: "Your ANBU aren't deaf, so be careful."

Naruto bit his lip and glanced at the door he realized his bodyguards were standing behind, having of course noticed the Hokage never left the room. There was no way of telling them now that they were safe to leave him to his own devices. Important decisions were made in this room, so the door was soundproof enough, but when it came to volume, Gaara knew his lover did not quite fit the average chart. Then he had an idea.

"What are you doing?" Naruto asked when he got up on his knees on the table and lifted his legs from between the blond's. He quickly caught on when Gaara settled back down on all fours, turned around so what his clone had already had a taste of was dangling above his face.

"Giving your mouth a use," was the reply, and the only warning before the orange pants were unzipped and there was no more talking. No time for the slow teasing Naruto would have deserved as a punishment, if they wanted to finish this before the break ended.

A part of Gaara's mind he tried not to allow too much authority insisted on putting emphasis on the 'if'.

He let his gaze trail up to their only witnesses. The statues of his predecessors stared with disapproving eyes no matter what was laid out in front of them, but he could imagine that right now they were looking particularly appalled. For once, the former terror of Suna felt he deserved that, and for once, he didn't care.

It must have been influence of the man whose thrashing hips were fortunately keeping his hands occupied, but on a whim he felt like giving the Fourth a mocking wave.


End file.
